A Post-Apocalyptic Love Song
by HalfwayDecentFanfiction
Summary: After the events of Lies, the residents of the FAYZ struggle with their personal demons and find love in unlikely places. Meanwhile, something is brewing at Coates Academy. Pairings: Howard/Orc, Sam/Dekka, Astrid/Diana, Lana/Taylor, Edilio/Sanjit, Drake/Caine. Genderbent Sam and other minor changes.
1. Chapter 1: The Ballad of Love and Hate

_**A Post-Apocalyptic Love Song **__is set in a Gone series AU. It takes place shortly after the events of lies. In this universe, Sam is a girl, Caine died at the end of __**Hunger**__, and Drake never joined with Britney and escaped at the end of_ **Lies.** _I don't own the Gone series or The Ballad of Love and Hate by The Avett Brothers. Enjoy!_

_Hate keeps his head up and walks through the street._

_Every stranger and drifter he greets._

_And shakes hands with every loner he meets_

_With a serious look on his face._

It had been a bad day for Orc. He'd been a little drunk that afternoon, as usual, and for some reason, he'd been wandering around the dirty, stinking remnants of the town. He didn't know why he did that. It only ever made him feel worse, especially when he saw the little kids digging in the garbage or playing in shit, or when he walked past the graves in the plaza.

So there he'd been, wandering around the town and feeling bad about the little kids and the dead kids and his own sorry self. And a bunch of giggling little kids had walked in front of him. Two boys and a girl. One of the boys kicked him. Hard. He didn't feel it, not physically. But he'd been angry that anyone, even a little kid, would even try to hurt him. There, on the abandoned, cracked road with little weeds growing out of it, he had kicked the boy back.

Everything was blurry and fuzzy, but he remembered screaming. The boy he'd kicked was on the ground, not moving. The other boy was crying, screaming, "It was just a game! We were just playing! I'm sorry!" in between sobs. The girl had run for the hospital, yelling "Lana! Lana! Lana!" Over and over again. All the noise had made Orc's head hurt, and he'd sat down and covered his ears.

Soon, the blurriness and the fuzziness began to fade away. By the time Lana arrived, the guilt was starting to set in. He had looked up hopefully when she came. He and the Healer had always gotten along all right. She had healed him when the zekes attacked. She'd called him Charles.

He watched anxiously as she laid her hands on the boy. She'd had to concentrate hard, but soon, he had begun to stir. Orc approached her hopefully. She'd heard the scraping sound he made whenever he moved and turned around. Her face had been full of disgust and hatred.

"What were you playing at?" she'd said angrily. "What are you doing, wandering around all drunk? You could have killed him, Orc, do you understand? If I hadn't been in the hospital, he would have died!" She was yelling at him by the end.

"I-I-" he had begun to say, trying to apologize, trying to make it right, but she had just turned away in disgust.

So he had stumbled back to the house he shared with Howard to get more booze and drown himself in it until the horrible, hateful look and the kicking and the screams of the kids were all washed away. It was like baptism, being drunk, except the alcohol didn't actually wash away his sins, only the memory of them, and when the alcohol wore off, they were still there.

Howard had insisted that Orc ate some dinner before drinking again. Orc was almost never hungry, but he ate anyway, to make Howard happy. Then he grabbed a full case of beer and left again. He didn't want to see any people, and he especially didn't want to see Howard, with his fake concern and his talk of better days and better futures. Howard didn't care. Nobody did. Nobody could.

_Love arrives safely with suitcase in tow._

_Carrying with her the good things we know._

_A reason to live and a reason to grow._

_To trust. To hope. To care._

Howard sat on the bent couch after Orc left, confused and a little bit scared. Since Howard had started keeping track, he noticed Orc's drinking was getting progressively worse. Orc had gone through more alcohol than most of the rest of Perdido Beach put together in the last week. Howard had a sneaking suspicion that Orc didn't just want to get drunk anymore.

Howard knew that Orc wouldn't be able to go on like this. If he kept wondering around while he was drunk, he could hurt or kill someone and get kicked out of town. Or worse, he could drink too much and…Howard shut that thought down violently. He didn't want to think about that.

_Why not?_ asked a tiny voice in the back of his head, forcing Howard to assess the situation coldly, the way he always did. _If Orc drank too much one day and…and it killed him, why would it matter?_

Howard was smart. Orc was useful to him as protection from the FAYZ's many dangers, but he wasn't absolutely necessary. Howard controlled most of the FAYZ's alcohol and drugs. There were some kids who would do anything for a little of it, including the high and mighty Healer. Howard was the Albert of FAYZ's dark underbelly. He could hire one of Edilio's gunmen to protect him from coyotes and mutants and everything else.

But Orc was…special.

They were friends. Best friends. They'd been together since day one. That's all it was.

No. It wasn't.

_You're using him_, Howard tried to remind himself. _You always have been. He's your big, rocky puppet and you're the master. That's it._

He suddenly felt repulsed by himself. Was that really him? Was that really how he treated people, how he thought about people? How he thought about Orc?

No wonder Orc got drunk so much. Everyone looked at him and saw the big monster boy with gravel skin. No one seemed to remember that he used to be a boy, that he had feelings, just like the rest of them.

But wasn't that the way Howard looked at everybody? He'd joined Orc's gang and bullied other, younger kids to avoid being bullied himself, and he hadn't even felt that bad about it. When the FAYZ began, he had latched onto Orc immediately, and had enabled his alcoholism in exchange for protection. He had wormed his way onto the town council, supported Astrid in her decision to lie about Orsay, and turned on her when the lies were leaked to the others. When the fires had broken out, he had even tried to refuse to let Orc help put them out until the council paid him. He was a manipulator who used others' lives for profit. He always had been.

Howard got up and started walking towards the closet where he kept his alcohol stash. He vainly tried to think of excuses for himself. He'd always cared about Orc, hadn't he? Yes, that was true, if nothing else. He cared about Orc more than anyone else probably ever had. He had always seen that beneath Orc's tough-guy attitude, Orc felt things more deeply than anyone else. During the fires, when everyone else had kept a mostly cool head, Orc had broken. Orc couldn't take the burning and the dead kids. The FAYZ had been harder on him than it had been on anyone. And the worst part was the way Orc could see how others felt about him. They thought he was inhuman, a monster, and Orc agreed. Howard saw this every day.

But what had Howard done? Had he tried to help? Had he told Orc how much he cared about him? Even loved him?

No. He had used Orc for his own needs. He'd only made everything worse.

Howard opened the closet. He had recently found some guy's secret stash in one of the unused houses, so there was plenty in there. Enough to keep him in money for awhile, unless Orc drank it all. Which he might, the way he had been acting.

If Orc drank it all, it could kill him.

Howard stared into the closet. The bottles glinted in the fake moonlight of the FAYZ. Brown, clear, homemade red. Howard had never taken a drink from any color of bottle. He had dealt alcohol to others, but had never had the urge to taste it himself. But now that he'd realized what a manipulative bottom-feeder he really was, and now that he had to deal with the fear of Orc drinking himself to death, he desperately wanted to take a drink.

Howard cautiously extended his hand, feeling like Eve reaching for the apple in Eden. He could do it. He could take a drink, and then another, and another. He could drown out the fear and the shame. He and Orc could spiral into self-destruction together. And who knew? Maybe when they died, they would finally be free of the FAYZ. Maybe Orc would have his real body back. Maybe they could both start over.

Or maybe they would both just die. That wouldn't be so bad either, if they were together.

Howard hesitated for what seemed like a long, long time. Then he pulled his hand away.

People could change. That was one thing the FAYZ had taught everyone; maybe Howard couldn't undo all the damage he had done in his short life; maybe he could never truly change his ways, but maybe, just maybe, he could save Orc.

Howard was smart. He knew that if he went through with this, he would have to go all the way. No profits, no escape clauses. Orc might even kill him for it. But if he could change, if he could save Orc, it would all be worth it.

Charles. If he could save Charles.

_Hate sits alone on the hood of his car._

_Without much regard to the moon or the stars._

_Lazily killing the last of a jar_

_Of the strongest stuff you can drink._

Orc broke the neck off of another bottle and poured it down his throat. He was sitting on the empty beach, staring off towards the ocean. All alone.

He'd gotten angry at a kid. Just a little kid playing a game.

He was ashamed because those kids had been through enough. Their parents had been taken from them. They had starved. They'd been attacked by coyotes. They'd been forced to do hard labor just for basic necessities. They'd been forced to survive in a world that hated them, just like Orc had when he was a kid. No kid should have to go through that.

He was ashamed because he had acted like the thing everyone thought he was. The angry, drunk, unfeeling monster. The bully. The killer. They were right, all of them. They saw the truth.

He was ashamed because he was turning into his dad. No, worse. His dad may have beaten up an innocent kid, but his dad had never killed anyone. Orc was a killer. He had killed Bette just for using her powers. He had tried to kill Drake. He'd almost killed the kid on the road today.

His feelings, his anger and shame and self-hatred, welled up inside of him. He broke the neck of another bottle and almost threw it down his throat, trying to drown them, to wash them away. It was getting harder and harder to get drunk. He would need more booze soon to keep the feelings at bay.

When he finished the bottle, he threw it away. It hit a rock and shattered. Glass shards fell and buried into the sand. It was broken, just like everything else. He was like Charlie Brown. Everything he touched got ruined.

For some reason, Orc found this hilarious. It was true. Bottles. Furniture. Kids. Everything broke when he hit it with his hard, gravelly, monstrous body. He fell to the ground and laughed and laughed.

Orc didn't want to break things anymore. He didn't want to hurt kids. But monsters didn't get second chances

. He needed more booze. He picked himself up with exaggerated care and lumbered unsteadily towards the house he shared with Howard.

_Hate gets home lucky to still be alive._

_He screams o'er the sidewalk and into the drive._

_The clock in the kitchen says 2:55,_

_And the clock in the kitchen is slow._

Howard could hear Charles coming towards their broken, beer-and-sweat-soaked house. He had gotten used to the smell, but it was still a disgusting place to live. Not that Charles really noticed most of the time. Hopefully, after tonight, that would change.

Howard was smart. He knew Charles could kill him easily. He knew that there was a good chance that Charles would do just that. Charles would be angry, furious even. Probably still drunk. Howard was counting on Charles being sober enough for Howard to talk him out of killing him. He knew Charles probably wouldn't be able to handle another death on his conscience.

The door began to open. Howard was sweating. His heart was pounding. He steeled himself. There was no going back now.

Orc stepped through the door. Their house was far away from the beach, and he had gotten lost a few times. The alcohol was mostly out of his system. He needed more. He needed to sink into it and drown himself, to escape, hopefully forever.

Howard would give him more. If there was one thing he could count on, it was that Howard didn't care as long as he came out on top. He didn't know why it hurt him so badly that Howard felt that way about him. Thinking about Howard hurt worse than anything else. He stepped into the living room.

"Beer me," said Orc wearily.

"No," said Howard.

_Love has been waiting, patient and kind._

_Just wanting a phone call or some kind of sign,_

_That the one that she cares for, who's out of his mind,_

_Will make it back safe to her arms._

Orc was nonplussed for a second. Then his gravelly face contorted in anger.

"Whaddya mean, no?" he said.

"I mean no, man," said Howard. "There's no more. I threw it out."

"No more?" Orc said slowly. Howard could see Orc slowly realize what that meant. "Get me more," Orc said.

"No," said Howard, growing more confident each time he said the word. Furious, Orc grabbed Howard by the shirt and lifted him up.

"Get me more!" he said desperately. "I need more!"

"I said no," said Howard, gasping. "C'mon, man, put me down. You don't wanna do this."

Orc didn't know what to think. Howard had never refused him anything before. This was a shock to his system. Now he really needed some booze.

"I'll kill you," Orc yelled, painfully aware of how much he sounded like his father. "You know I can!"

"Go ahead, man!" Howard said. To his surprise, he found that his voice was breaking. When was the last time he had cried for someone else's sake? Had he ever before? "Go ahead! Do it! I can't watch this anymore, Orc! I won't let you do this to yourself! You got that?"

Tears streamed down Howard's face. He felt Orc lift him upwards, as if preparing to throw him. He closed his eyes.

_It's worth it_, he thought. _It's worth it if he's safe._

_Hate stumbles forward and leans in the door._

_Weary head hung, eyes to the floor._

_He says "Love, I'm sorry", and she says, "What for?_

_I'm yours and that's it, Whatever._

_I should not have been gone for so long._

_I'm yours and that's it, forever."_

Orc could barely believe it.

He slowly lowered Howard down. Howard looked shocked, like he couldn't believe that he was still alive.

"I wouldn't kill you, man," said Orc.

"Aw, I knew that," Howard said shakily, trying to reconstruct the cool facade he always wore.

"I just…" Orc said, trailing off. He sat down. "I didn't think you…" He suddenly burst into tears.

"Hey, man, it's okay," said Howard, concerned. Howard knelt next to Orc and awkwardly patted his back. "You don't gotta cry like that, man. I gotcha."

"I just didn't think anyone would ever do that for me, you know?" Orc gulped. "I mean, you coulda died."

"Shh, man, shh. It's okay. It's okay." Howard put his arm around Orc. Orc tenderly put his arms around Howard and held him close. He was careful, and unlike everything else, Howard didn't break.

"I'm not worth it, Howard," said Orc.

"You are," Howard said firmly.

_You're mine and that's it, forever._

After a while, Orc passed out. Howard carefully laid a nearby blanket over him. He kissed Orc's forehead. "Good night, Charles," he whispered. Then Howard walked toward the Perdido Beach library to see if he could find any old Alcoholics Anonymous brochures.


	2. Chapter 2: Some Nights

_**A Post-Apocalyptic Love Song**__ is set in a Gone series AU. It takes place shortly after the events of lies. In this universe, Sam is a girl, Caine died at the end of __**Hunger**__, and Drake never joined with Britney and escaped at the end of __**Lies**__. I don't own the Gone series or Some Nights by fun. Enjoy!_

_Some nights I stay up cashing in my bad luck_

_Some nights I call it a draw_

_Some nights I wish that my lips could build a castle_

_Some nights I wish they'd just fall off_

Sam Temple walked, fuming, out of the first town council meeting after the reelection. Astrid's rules had been so popular that the citizens of Perdido Beach had insisted that an election be held a week after they'd been read. The council had developed a list of positions over the past few weeks, and the people wrote who they wanted for each position on a scrap of paper and gave it to Edilio.

Edilio had been elected head of the council, which they'd expected. That meant Edilio had total veto power, was the deciding voice on any major decisions, was in charge of all aspects of the government, and was basically the mayor of the town.

Dekka had been elected Chair of Defense, the second most powerful position. Dekka was now in charge of Edilio's gunmen. If the town were attacked, Dekka would be in charge, and the town would be put under martial law.

John Terrafino had been elected Chair of Ethics. He was the moral watchdog of the council. He also had total veto power on any council laws and decisions.

Astrid, to the surprise of many, had been voted back onto the council as Chair of Law. She was in charge of writing any new laws. She hadn't wanted the position. In fact, she had publicly supported two other possible candidates, a quiet girl who had been on the debate team named Shirley Janssen, and a young mock trial prodigy named Andrew Lang. But she had been voted back on despite all of that.

Albert was Chair of Resources. He controlled the town's finances and food supplies. Obviously, there were no other possible candidates for the job.

To the surprise of almost everybody, Howard had been voted Chair of Communications. He was in charge of talking to the townspeople and making suggestions for laws based on their needs. Sam figured that Howard must know a lot of people through his black market business. He was a pretty smooth talker, too. He would have been able to convince a lot of people.

Sam had been voted Underchair. That meant she was to fill in for any council member that was incapacitated. She was required to attend council meetings, but could not participate unless the council needed a tiebreaker vote.

Sam knew her job was a useless pity job, a bone the town had thrown her. She knew that Astrid had created the Chair of Defense position with her in mind, not Dekka. Sam should have been the obvious choice. She had saved everyone's butt time and time again. But she had almost failed the last time the town was in danger. She had run away. She had let the Human Crew grow in power undisturbed, and it had cost the lives of many kids. No one trusted her. She knew the only reason she was even voted Underchair was because everyone felt like they owed her something, at least.

As Sam neared her house, she saw Astrid sitting in a rocking chair on the front porch and holding a big cardboard box. Sam groaned. She didn't want to talk to Astrid. It was too soon. She was still too hurt.

"What do you want?" she said, standing at the bottom of her front steps. She crossed her arms.

"I'm just here to drop off your clothes," said Astrid coldly. "Then I'll be leaving."

"Yeah, well, good," said Sam, not quite knowing what to say. She walked up the steps and took the box from Astrid, refusing to meet her eyes. She opened the front door and was about to walk in when she heard Astrid speak.

"Sam…" she said. Against her better judgement, Sam felt a tiny glimmer of hope. She turned around.

"I want us to be friends," said Astrid, looking nervous and uncertain. "I'd be willing to overlook your…your problem, if you could try to…suppress it a little bit."

"I don't think so, Astrid," Sam said contemptuously. She stepped into her house and slammed the door.

She'd had a crush on Astrid before she even knew she liked girls. She'd always thought of Astrid as unattainable. She was rich, smart, and very religious. But when the FAYZ came, they'd become very good friends. Sam had hoped against hope that her feelings would be returned. They weren't. They had had a fight, and Sam had stormed out. Astrid hadn't tried to stop her.

She was now living in a small red house near town hall. Before the FAYZ, it had belonged to a sweet old couple. It was small enough that Sam didn't feel like she was taking up too much space. Hand-knitted afghans, golf trophies, and other various knick-knacks lined the shelves and tables. There were lace curtains on every window, and everything still smelled a little like old lady perfume. Everything in the house made Sam feel uncomfortable, like she was intruding. It didn't feel like her house the way the house she'd shared with Astrid had.

Sam collapsed onto the couch. She had just been getting comfortable with her new FAYZ life when it had all begun to fall apart. Ever since Drake-

_Don't think about that._

Ever since the power had been shut off, everything had gone wrong. She hadn't been able to stop Zil from burning down the town. She had deserted everyone when they had most needed her. She had let Drake escape. She had lost the respect of the town and any influence with the council. And worst of all, she had ruined her friendship with Astrid.

For the first time in ages, she allowed herself to cry.

_But I still wake up, I still see your ghost_

_Oh, Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for_

_What do I stand for?_

_What do I stand for?_

_Most nights I don't know anymore…_

By the time Sam had calmed herself down, night had begun to fall.

"Come on, pull yourself together," she said to herself. She got up and walked towards the kitchen, suddenly hungry. She was about to open her cupboard when Taylor appeared.

"What do they want?" Sam asked wearily, used to this by now.

"Hello to you too," said Taylor. "There's another council meeting tomorrow. Something's come up."

"Did they tell you what it was?" Sam asked.

"Nope. Top secret. But you gotta be there at eight tomorrow morning. Later," she said, then bounced out.

_Great. Another hour wasted sitting at a table and not doing anything,_ thought Sam. She grumpily checked her cupboard. No meat or fish, just some fruit and vegetables. She grabbed a couple of oranges and ate them slowly.

She checked her watch. Nine o'clock. The watch didn't run on electricity. It was the old-fashioned kind. She'd found it in a drawer in the house.

She walked into the living room, created a ball of light, picked up a book, and tried to read. She wasn't even sure what book it was, only that she needed something to keep herself awake.

Time passed. Her eyelids were drooping. The words in the book began to spin and fall off of the page. She got up, shook herself off, walked to the kitchen, and splashed some water on her face. She wished she had some coffee. There wasn't much available, but it was rumored that Howard had some stored up. She'd have to talk to him.

She paced between the kitchen and the living room. She was tired, so tired, and she had a council meeting tomorrow morning. She should sleep.

But she couldn't. She wouldn't. Sleeping would bring back-

_Don't think about that._

She jogged in place. She put ice down her back. But everything was getting fuzzy and eventually, she passed out.

_What do you want, Drake?_

_You._

_The whip hand came down._

_Again._

_Searing, unbearable pain._

_The world spun._

_She collapsed. She couldn't take it. It hurt so bad._

_She was on the ground, humiliated. She'd wet her pants. That was almost worse, knowing that Drake had seen her like that. That he'd reduced her to that._

_Then she was in the cave. The morphine barely held back the pain. Caine was trying to stop the cave from collapsing. He was failing._

_Go!_

_His face was twisted with effort. Sam had left him._

_Caine had died for her. For all of them._

_Why?_

_Drake wasn't dead. He wasn't dead._

_He would find her. He would do it again._

_She could hear him laughing._

_She screamed and screamed and screamed._

…

_This is it, boys, this is war – what are we waiting for?_

_Why don't we break the rules already?_

_I was never one to believe the hype_

_Save that for the black and white_

_I try twice as hard and I'm half as liked,_

_But here they come again to jack my style_

Sam slouched into the council meeting room ten minutes late. She plopped into her chair next to John Teraffino. She sat across from Astrid, but purposely avoided looking at her. Dekka groaned inwardly. She knew Sam was going through a rough time, but couldn't she tell that her sulking was only making people respect her less?

She didn't look well at all. Her eyes were bloodshot and shadowed, and her hair was a mess. She hadn't even bothered to change out of yesterday's clothes.

"Now that everyone's here, we can get down to business," Edilio spoke from his seat at the head of the table across from Dekka. "Albert, your report." Albert stood, slapping a notebook onto the table.

"My people made detailed records of exactly how many cabbages were in Field Nine on page 34," said Albert. "And I have detailed records of exactly how many cabbages were brought in from Field Nine on page 57. Even factoring in the margin of error, you'll notice that there are several cabbages missing."

Howard grabbed the notebook and flipped through it, then threw it back onto the table.

"He's right," he said.

"So glad we have you here to confirm that, Howard," Sam snapped. Everyone ignored her. She scowled.

"So who do you think's stealing our food?" asked Howard.

"Dekka? Any reports?" asked Edilio.

"Whoever it is, they've managed to get past my guards without them noticing," said Dekka. "But there've been some rather strange reports. Kids will randomly black out and wake up ten minutes later not remembering what happened. And then there have been reports of impossible monsters attacking kids. Giant spiders and fire-breathing snakes and other things like that."

"Why didn't you tell us this sooner?" asked Edilio. Dekka shrugged.

"The kids who made the reports weren't injured at all, and there were no signs of tracks. I assumed they were a little sick or something and sent them to Dahra."

"Fantastic job defending the town," Sam said sarcastically. Dekka glared at her.

"Whatever's happening, it's happened more than once," said Albert. "Take a look at my records for fields Ten, Twelve, and Thirteen."

"All the southwest fields," said Astrid. "The ones nearest to Coates. They must have some new mutants."

"But what kinda freak could cause the stuff Dekka's been talking about?" said Howard.

"Whatever it is, it's a threat," said Edilio.

"Whoa, no way, man," Sam said. "Stealing our food, attacking kids, and you're telling me it's a threat? What a genius, what a-"

"Shut up, Sam!" Edilio snapped. "We're all trying to solve a problem here, in case you haven't noticed, and you're just getting in everyone's way!" Sam, taken aback, fell silent.

"We'll have to send someone to check out Coates," said Edilio.

"Taylor or Brianna?" Astrid suggested. Dekka shook her head.

"They'll have that wire trick ready for Brianna, and I don't trust Taylor," said Dekka. "I'd say Computer Jack should go, but I don't quite trust him either. I'd go myself, but I'd like to have some backup, and I wouldn't be able to keep up with Taylor, Brianna, or Jack."

"One of your gun kids?" Howard suggested. Dekka shook her head.

"We're already tight, and after this, security will need to be doubled. I don't think I can spare one of them," said Dekka.

"You could take me," Sam said. "Just, you know, if you can't think of anyone else." There was a pause as everyone tried desperately to think of someone else.

"I think that might be our best option," said Dekka, breaking the silence.

"That is, if you're capable of recognizing Dekka as your superior and taking orders from her," said Edilio. "I'll try," said Sam.

Dekka knew she should be irritated. Sam was acting like a child, and would be impossible to work with. But if she were honest with herself, she would have to admit that she was glad Sam would be with her. Not just because of Sam's powers, but because Sam was her friend, and she could tell that something was very wrong with her.

_That's alright_

_I found a martyr in my bed tonight_

_She stops my bones from wondering just who I am, who I am, who I am_

_Oh, who am I?_

Sam and Dekka didn't start on the path to Coates until late that afternoon. Coates was only a short drive from Perdido Beach, but it would take a day walking. They had to pack. They each carried a bag with a sleeping bag and a couple cans of food. Dekka took a pistol.

The council wanted to make sure no one knew where they were going. They didn't want anyone scared. In the late afternoon, most of the kids were in the mall on the other side of town. No one would see them go. They were traveling through the woods so that they wouldn't be spotted by anyone (except maybe Hunter). The forest was a greenish-brown color, and the leaves were beginning to wilt because of the absence of rain.

"Ready?" Dekka said. Sam grunted. They began walking, Sam several feet ahead of Dekka.

There was silence for a while. Dekka knew that she should talk to Sam. She knew she should try to find out what was wrong with her. But she didn't know how.

Dekka had always been a bit of a loner. Ever since she was a little kid, she'd known she was different from the other kids in her small town. They were one of the few black families around, and Dekka had never quite been interested in the things the other girls were. And of course, she'd known she liked girls since she was very young.

Sometimes, Dekka wished she knew more about people. Maybe then, she would have realized that being friends with Caine and Drake's group was a bad idea. She had always been a fighter, but maybe, if she knew more about people, she could really help them, instead of just protecting them.

But maybe, to help someone, she didn't need to know people. Maybe she just needed to know one person. Maybe just Sam.

She decided to try something.

"Sam," she said. Sam was walking in front of her, shoulders hunched over.

"What?" Sam snapped.

"I'm sorry you're not Chair of Defense." Sam stopped suddenly. Dekka ran into her.

"Keep moving," she said.

"Right, sorry," said Sam. She continued walking.

"Like I said, I'm sorry," said Dekka. "I know you wanted the job. I know you were supposed to have it. And…" she paused, trying to think about how she would feel in Sam's position. "And I know it must hurt a little, knowing that people preferred me over you." If that comment stung, Sam didn't show it. "So…yeah. I'm sorry."

Sam didn't respond for a long time. Then she turned her head around and slowed down a bit.

"You don't have to apologize for being better at being me than me," she said. Dekka wasn't sure if that whether or not that was a good thing.

After a while, night began to fall.

"We should stop," said Dekka.

"I can keep going," Sam called back.

"Yeah, but we need to be rested in case there's a fight tomorrow," Dekka replied.

"If you want," Sam said. They didn't make a fire. It would attract too much attention. Instead, they ate some cold canned tomatoes in the dark and silence.

"I'll take first watch," said Sam. "You can sleep. I'll wake you up when it's your turn." Dekka didn't argue.

She woke herself up several hours later, groaning. Sam was still awake.

"Sam?" she moaned.

"Yeah?" he said back.

"When were you planning on waking me up?"

"Later."

"You should sleep."

"I'm all right."

"I'm ordering you to sleep, Sam." There was a pause. Dekka got up and shook off the sleep.

"Please let me try to stay up," Sam said.

"You don't need to prove anything to me," said Dekka.

"It's not that. I just don't want to sleep is all," Sam said.

"Sam, will you please just go to bed?" Dekka said wearily. "I don't want to have to cover your butt in a fight tomorrow."

"Okay. Fine. Whatever," said Sam. She walked towards her pack and unrolled her sleeping bag. Dekka reversed gravity, floated into a tree, and sat.

An hour later, the screaming began. At first, it was just mumbling noises. Okay, Dekka thought, she talks in her sleep. Then it became yelling.

"NO! NO! GET AWAY!" Sam was yelling. Her limbs were flailing. A bloodcurdling scream spilled from her mouth and painted the inky silence red. Dekka jumped down from the tree and ran to Sam.

"Hey. Wake up," she said, shaking Sam. Sam only hit her and screamed more. Dekka grabbed her and shook her hard.

"Sam, wake up, it's just a dream!" she yelled. Sam's eyes opened, and she woke up, gasping and crying.

"It's okay, Sam," Dekka said, desperately trying to calm her down. "It was just a dream. You can stop screaming." She moved to Sam's side and put her arm around her awkwardly, not quite sure if it was the right thing to do. Sam shuddered and stared ahead, looking stricken.

"It's so dark," she whispered. "It's so dark out here."

"So make a light," Dekka said. Sam stretched her arms forward, palms out, and shot out her killing light. Dekka jumped away.

"Hey, no, not like that!" said Dekka. "You're going to give us away!"

"I have to burn him!" Sam sobbed. "Burn him until he's dead!" Dekka reversed gravity, allowed Sam to rise a few feet into the air, then dropped her. Sam yelled, "oof" and stopped firing.

"Sorry," said Dekka. "I meant a light for seeing." She guided Sam's arm upward. Sam made several small Sammy Suns. They floated around Sam and Dekka like an ethereal fairy's circle. Sam calmed down.

"I don't wanna go back," she gulped.

"You won't," said Dekka. "I'll protect you. Just lie down." Sam laid her head down in Dekka's lap and took several deep breaths. Soon, she was asleep.

_Well, some nights I wish that this all would end_

_'__Cause I could use some friends for a change._

_And some nights I'm scared you'll forget me again_

_Some nights I always win, I always win…_

Sam woke up with her head in Dekka's lap. When she realized this, she sprang upwards.

"Wha-why…?" she said. Then she remembered last night. Her face turned red.

"I'm going to take a leak," she muttered, running for the nearest large tree. Her head was spinning.

Dekka thought she was weak now. She thought Sam was the kind of girl who had nightmares and woke up scared of the dark and crying for mommy. Sam resented that, especially since she thought it was true.

She emerged from behind the tree to find that Dekka had packed everything up. This only made Sam more angry.

"Come on, let's go," she said, snatching both packs and carrying them.

"Sam," Dekka said, rare uncertainty in her voice. Sam whirled around. "About last night." There was a nervous look in her eyes, as if she didn't know the right thing to say. Good.

"I don't want to talk about it," Sam said shortly. She turned back around and strode forward angrily.

They walked for a half hour, Sam fuming. She knew Dekka was trying to get her to fall apart just when she was so close to getting herself together. She just wanted to shove everything that had happened, all the failures and the voices and the memories, down into the bottom of her brain and keep them there, so that they could never bubble up to the surface. She squeezed her eyes shut involuntarily.

That turned out to be a mistake.

She felt sharp claws tear at her leg. As she fell to the ground, her eyes popped open. A coyote was on top of her. "Now!" it yelled in the pained voice given to it by the Darkness. "Kill Bright Hands!" "Kill Bright Hands!" the others yelled. But before they could attack Sam, Dekka stepped in and reversed gravity. Unfortunately, Sam was now floating with the coyotes.

"I'm going to drop you," said Dekka. "Then you're going to need to crawl towards me as fast as you can. Okay?"

"Yeah. Do it," said Sam. Dekka dropped her. With the coyotes disoriented, Sam tried to crawl away, but she was too slow. One of the coyotes pounced on her, flipping her over and pinning her arms down. It was about to bite her face when suddenly, Dekka's large, dark arm shoved it off.

Sam tried to crawl away so that she could get a clear shot at the coyotes without hitting Dekka. Dekka was wrestling with the coyotes, trying to keep them away from Sam. Sam saw Pack Leader escape Dekka and head for her. She blasted it.

Pack Leader ran from the blast. The others followed. Sam got up and ran over to Dekka, terrified that she may have accidentally killed her friend.

"Dekka, are you all right?" she said. Dekka sat up, wincing.

"Yeah. I gotta get to Lana soon, though. These could get infected," she said.

"Here, I'll get the medical stuff," Sam said. She grabbed the packs from where she had dropped them and rifled through them.

Dekka lay on the dirt floor among the tree roots and brown leaves. She had several bite marks on her arms and legs. One arm, in particular, was full of mushy red pulp like chewed meat. Sam pulled out the medical supplies and began to dab at Dekka's wounds. Dekka winced at Sam's touch.

"This arm's definitely out of commission," Sam said. "Dekka, that was not a smart thing to do."

"Sorry," Dekka gasped. Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears, the first time in the FAYZ that Dekka had cried.

"Why do you always have to be a hero?" Sam said.

"It's just the way I am-ah!" she gasped, jerking her left arm away from Sam.

"Hold still," Sam said, grabbing Dekka's arm and forcing it down. Dekka gritted her teeth as Sam finished. When she was done, she pulled Dekka up against a tree. Dekka's right arm was in a sling. Sam sat next to her, under the rustling greenish-brown umbrella of the tree.

"Rest for a bit," said Sam. After a while, Dekka spoke.

"You think I'm a hero?" she said.

"Well, yeah," Sam said. "You've saved my life and everyone else's lots of times. And you're basically fearless." Dekka smiled her small smile.

"Thanks," she said. She hesitated, as if she were going to share something very personal. Sam realized that this was why Dekka had wanted to talk. Not because she thought Sam was weak, but because she was grateful that Sam had shared some of her weakness, and wanted to share a little of her own in return. Overhead, a bird chirped.

"I've always wanted to be a hero," she said. "Ever since I was a little girl. I read Harry Potter and Narnia and all that. Some older stories, too, like St. George and King Arthur. Watched the Batman and Superman cartoons every morning. Like kids do."

"Yeah," Sam said.

"But…" she said. "But heroes aren't like me, Sam. Heroes aren't fat black girls. Heroes are never gay. And I always thought that I would always have to watch and never be one of them. I tried to be heroic. If someone was picking on a girl, I would stand up for her. But they were always scared of me. When we were little, they were scared I would beat them up, and when we got older, they were scared I would try to kiss them. And I wanted to, sometimes, because the hero should get a kiss at the end. That's how it works. But not for me." She stopped. This was the longest statement Sam had ever heard Dekka make.

"I was never like that," Sam said. "All I wanted to do was live my life without bothering anyone or being bothered. Then this happened, and now I need to be the hero. I need people to look up to me and trust me. And I hate myself because I don't think I want it for the right reasons. I worry that I'm turning into Caine. And I worry that I can't do enough. That it's my fault so many people have died."

"That's not true," Dekka said softly. "You saved everybody from Caine when no one else was brave enough, even though you didn't want the recognition. You do what you do for the right reasons, I know it. And don't worry, you have me to help you. Share the heroics and share the blame. Okay?"

"Thanks," Sam said, looking up at Dekka, "And for what it's worth, I don't think Batman or Harry Potter have anything on you." Dekka turned her face toward Sam's. They were so close, their noses were almost touching. Dekka's eyes looked almost hopeful. For a second, Sam wanted to lean in just a bit closer.

Then she stopped. Astrid. She loved Astrid. It wouldn't be fair of her to lead Dekka on this way when her heart belonged to someone else. "We should get going," Sam said, standing up. "They'll be worried."

_But I still wake up, I still see your ghost_

_Oh, Lord, I'm still not sure what I stand for, oh_

_What do I stand for?_

_What do I stand for?_

_Most nights I don't know anymore... _

Dekka and Sam were very close to Coates Academy when they heard the scream.

"Think we might have found what we were looking for?" asked Sam. Dekka grabbed her pistol from her pocket.

"Guess it's hero time," she said. They carefully crept forward, hiding behind trees as well as they could. Sam, who was smaller and faster, and could therefore get away more easily, walked a few feet in front of Dekka. Suddenly, Sam turned her head around, put a finger to her lips, and ducked behind a tree. Dekka followed suit.

"Please," a familiar voice said weakly. Diana, Sam thought. She hadn't really known or liked the other girl, but she had felt a slight kinship with her despite herself ever since Diana had flirted with her. She snuck a look forward.

Diana was lying on her stomach, surrounded on all sides by trees. Her left foot was bleeding badly, and her normally composed face was tomato-red and wet with tears. Sam was behind a tree a few yards from her head.

Sam realized that Diana's attitude must have made her a few enemies at Coates Academy, and Caine was no longer around to protect her. Even if she had access to weapons, a powerful freak could easily bring her down. Maybe if she and Dekka saved Diana, Diana would be able to give them some information. And, well, they couldn't just leave her there. Could they?

Sam began to hear footsteps coming from the direction Diana's feet were pointing in, starting softly, but growing louder and louder. Sam's body grew tense, preparing for battle. She raised her hands up, palms out, and positioned her feet so that she could quickly and easily step around the tree and blast Diana's attacker, whoever he or she was. The footsteps grew louder.

Drake stepped into view. Sam froze. She forced herself to keep standing there, to not run away.

He was dead. This wasn't possible. He'd been crushed. Was she hallucinating?

Drake spoke. Oh God, that voice. It made her skin crawl. She felt sweat trickle down her forehead.

"Did you honestly think you could run away from us?" he said contemptuously. Diana didn't reply. "Answer me!" he said, cracking his tentacle. Sam flinched.

"No," Diana whispered

"Sam," she heard Dekka hiss. "What's up?" Sam put a shaking finger to her lips, not taking her eyes off of Drake.

"But you tried anyway," Drake said. "Because you're a stupid little girl. Say it."

"I'm a stupid little girl," she whispered.

"That can't be," Dekka whispered. Sam saw Drake's eyes rise up from Diana on the ground.

"Yes you are," he said. "Just like the other stupid little girl hiding right behind that tree."

Sam turned and ran.

_So this is it. I sold my soul for this?_

_Washed my hands of that for this?_

_I miss my mom and dad for this?_

Dekka had a choice. She could run after Sam. Or she could help the girl who was being threatened by Drake.

She was so very tempted to make the wrong choice.

But then, hadn't she been waiting for a moment like this?

Drake had said "girl." Singular. He didn't realize she was there.

Her arm was still messed up, but she had the element of surprise on her side.

The whip cracked. The girl screamed. Dekka decided not to waste any more time. She charged forward, palms out.

...

Sam stumbled through the woods, panicked. Her thoughts were bouncing around her brain, too fast for her to catch. Were those really footsteps she heard behind her? Or was her mind messing with her? She wasn't going to take the chance that it was.

She looked back. Bad move. She tripped over a tree root and went sprawling, landing flat on her face. Her nose started to bleed. But Drake wasn't coming after her. She lay on the ground for a minute, trying to calm herself down.

That's when she heard it. An angry roar. Dekka. She had left Dekka behind.

She was going to have to go back.

Dekka was her friend and her partner. She couldn't leave her.

Slowly, agonizingly, she got up and turned around.

_No. When I see stars, when I see, when I see stars, that's all they are_

_When I hear songs, they sound like this one, so come on._

_Oh, come on. Oh, come on. Oh, come on!_

"Back off, Drake," said Dekka, running past Diana and reversing gravity. Drake was forced into the air, his flailing whip arm now useless. His face contorted with fury.

"Diana, run," said Dekka, not taking her eyes off of Drake. She heard the sounds of Diana scrambling away behind her. Good. Maybe she and Sam would get to safety and warn Perdido Beach. Maybe.

She felt the anti-gravity field weaken and quickly strengthened it. Pain shot through her arm, and she winced. Drake noticed. An ugly smile spread across his face.

"You can't hold it forever, freak," he said. "And when you drop me, I'll be ready."

"We'll see," Dekka said calmly. She dropped Drake suddenly, and he smashed to the ground. She lifted him again, this time higher, and dropped him again. Then a few more times. And then she noticed something odd. His bones were snapping, but he didn't seem like he was in pain. In fact, it seemed like his bones were healing in midair.

She dropped him again, but this time, he snapped his tentacle out and hit her side. She gasped and stumbled back, and the tentacle snaked out and wrapped itself around her ankle. Quickly, she propelled herself into the air. She grabbed her gun and shot the tentacle. The hole healed, but it couldn't pull her down. She aimed the gun right at Drake's head.

...

Sam slowly approached the area where Drake and Dekka fought. She had run into Diana on the way and told her to hide. She looked and saw...

Dekka.

Floating in the sky, gun aimed carefully. Hair floating in an ethereal way, fire in her eyes.

With her arm and side bleeding, her clothes torn, covered in sweat and mud. Stinking like she hadn't washed in weeks.

Strong. Brave. Beautiful.

Sam was caught like a fly in amber, gently trapped in the sight of Dekka in her most natural form, that of a warrior.

The gunshot startled Sam. It hit Drake in the lower chest. But then, impossibly, the bullet hole began to close.

Drake. The warm, still feelings that had filled Sam scattered, replaced with cold dread. And he was regenerating. He could heal himself. Was he immortal?

Only one way to find out.

Steeling herself, she stepped forward.

"Hello again, Drake," she said, trying to stop her voice from shaking (it didn't work). She felt like it wasn't just her voice. Like everything was shaking. Like it would be so easy for him to reach a tentacle out and knock her over. Drake's head turned, and he grinned. Her brain was sending her two messages. One, cold with fear, said, "Run!" The other, hot with fire and light, said, "Burn him."

"Sam," he said, his voice full of pleasure. He could see her fear, and it filled him with fire and excitement. It made her furious.

"Y-you'd better run," she said, raising her palms. The harder, burning message won out. She was going to burn him away, so nothing was left, and then the nightmares would end. They had to. Her fire pumped through her veins, filling her brain with burning hatred and spreading its way toward her hands. Ready to be let loose on Drake.

She began to burn him, starting with his feet and moving slowly and methodically up his body. He was screaming, just like she'd screamed.

His tentacle rose up into the air, aiming for Sam's head. Sam screamed. It sailed in the air like an unholy kite...and then dropped. A bullet ripped through Drake's head, leaving a gaping hole in the other side.

Dekka fell. Sam stopped burning suddenly and ran to her and helped her up. Dekka looked tired, as if she'd really had to strain herself when fighting Drake. Part of Sam was furious at having been cheated of her revenge. But the rest of her was relieved that Dekka had allowed her to choose the easier message.

"Come on. We gotta get out of here before he heals," said Sam, panicked.

"Don't you want to kill him?" Dekka asked. Sam looked beautiful, stoic Dekka up and down, taking in the whip mark on her side, the sore-looking ankle, the wrecked arm, the scratches, the bruises, and most of all, the tiredness that made Sam ache. She wouldn't survive another fight with Drake.

"It can wait," she said.

_Well, that is it guys, that is all - five minutes in and I'm bored again_

_Ten years of this, I'm not sure if anybody understands_

_This one is not for the folks at home;_

_Sorry to leave, mom, I had to go_

_Who the fuck wants to die alone all dried up in the desert sun? _

Sam was on the beach, staring at the smooth, featureless ocean, when Dekka approached her.

"Hey," said Dekka. "Can I sit?"

"Go ahead," said Sam, not looking at her. Dekka sat, not too close, but close enough. They sat together quietly. A seagull squawked.

"Sorry you couldn't kill him," said Dekka.

"It'll happen eventually," Sam said dully. "It's like Harry Potter. Neither can live while the other survives. I don't just hate him. I don't want to live in the same universe as him. One of us is going to die." Instinctively, Dekka grabbed Sam's hand and gripped it tightly.

"It won't be you who dies," she said, meeting Sam's eyes. Sam looked almost unbearably sad.

"I don't want to be a killer, Dekka," Sam said softly. "That's not who I was. Or who I want to be. I don't want to protect people by hurting other people."

"I get it. I really do," said Dekka. And she did. When little kids read books and watched cartoons, they never understood how rough the main character had it. How much pain they had to go through. How hard it was for the best and noblest of people to become fighters and killers. "But we're the soldiers of the FAYZ, Sam. We have to do what we have to do. Whatever it takes."

Sam thought about that as she looked back out at the water. Whatever it takes. She was becoming less and less of the person she had been. She was no longer the laid-back surfer, the girl who didn't make waves, who never spoke up in class or joined clubs, who quietly lusted after beautiful blonde geniuses. The girl who thought darkness was what happened when you turned off the light, and not something that lived inside cold black eyes and cracking whips. She was becoming the girl who had stepped up in those few seconds in elementary school and stopped a school bus from crashing. A woman who could burn and destroy and do whatever it takes. And the more she fed her old self, piece by piece, to that destructive fire, the more afraid she grew. Because what would happen to that fire if the FAYZ ended, and suddenly there was nothing left to burn or to kill?

That was why she loved Astrid, she realized. Not because of Astrid herself, but because of what she was afraid would happen if she stopped.

But if Sam was ever going to make sure she had become a leader for the right reasons, not because she wanted attention or power, she had to mature and grow. And if, when the FAYZ ended, she would have to face accusations and blame from the outside world, she would need to be strong enough to face it.

She looked at Dekka, no longer in full battle mode. But Sam could see traces of the Dekka she'd seen before even now, in her fearless brown eyes. If she could be with Dekka, if she could share the heroics and share the blame, maybe she could learn to live with her new self. And if, when the darkness that was Drake filled her with fear, Dekka was there to help her make a light, it could get better. It wouldn't go away, but it might get better.

She took a deep breath, turned to Dekka, and said,

"So...I think I love you."

Dekka looked at Sam, strong, complicated, loyal, vulnerable, beautiful Sam. Sam believed in Dekka. She trusted Dekka. She wanted them to be partners, friends, and maybe a little more. It was a new feeling for her.

All her life, she hadn't had many friends, and she hadn't particularly regretted that. But yesterday, she had realized how quietly lonely she had been. And now Sam was offering to let her in.

She grabbed Sam suddenly and pulled her into a long


End file.
